


Truth and Tradition

by MalenkayaCherepakha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Godparent Harry Potter, H/D Erised 2019, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Kid Fic, M/M, Magical Theory, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21591322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalenkayaCherepakha/pseuds/MalenkayaCherepakha
Summary: Pure-blood tradition dictates that every child learns about pure-blood culture and history when they first start to show signs of magic. When a reluctant Draco is told he has to teach Teddy, he doesn’t expect to learn new things about magic, the world beyond Diagon Alley, and an old schoolmate.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 54
Kudos: 653
Collections: H/D Erised 2019





	Truth and Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toomanytears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanytears/gifts).



> Toomanytears, when I saw your prompt about Teddy, I was immediately inspired so I hope you like where I took it—I had so much fun writing it. Thank you B for your invaluable help at every stage of the writing process and for your brilliant beta’ing, and thank you to the mods for running such a great fest

‘I received a letter from Andromeda today,’ Narcissa said, breaking the silence that had settled over the Manor dining room after she had finished enquiring after Draco’s work. Narcissa insisted on weekly dinners together, and every one was just as awkward as the last, Draco still uncomfortable in the Manor even after all these years.

‘How is she?’ Draco replied absentmindedly, more focused on quickly finishing his roast beef so he could escape back to his own house as soon as possible. 

‘She’s very well, although Edward is keeping her busy.’ Draco hated how his mother refused to call Teddy by his nickname—everyone else did, after all, and it always took Draco a minute to figure out who she meant by ‘Edward’—but she insisted that it was only proper to use his full name. 

‘He’s probably desperate to get to Hogwarts,’ Draco said, thinking back to that painfully slow final year at home, when all he had wanted was to be off having adventures at Hogwarts rather than stuck at home with his parents and his tutors. 

‘Andromeda mentioned that he’s started displaying signs of accidental magic,’ Narcissa said, her tone light, as though this was just another piece of idle chit chat. Draco knew better though, years of experience teaching him that his mother was skilled at lulling people into a false sense of security before revealing the main point of the conversation.

‘Oh, has he? I hope he’s not causing too much trouble,’ Draco said, treading carefully, waiting for the trap. He had a feeling he knew why his mother had brought this up, and it had his stomach sinking with dread. 

‘As the oldest male in the family,’ Narcissa began, and Draco sighed. He had been right—he knew exactly where this conversation was going to go now. ‘And considering the… absence… of Edward’s father, it is your duty to teach Edward the things he needs to know, to teach him about our traditions and history. It’s time for his _Lectiones_.’

Draco ran a hand through his hair as he tried to decide how to respond, ignoring the pointed look his mother sent his way at his now less than pristine appearance. The _Lectiones_ were lessons that all pure-blood children took, led by the oldest male in the family, so that they knew what was expected of them and understood pure-blood culture. Draco had undertaken them himself as a child. In the years since the war, however, Draco had begun to realise what a disservice his parents had done him, raising him to believe in his own superiority over everyone who wasn’t pure-blooded. The crimes he had committed in the name of those beliefs still sickened him. Even though he had long ago served his punishment and spent the following years working hard to try and make amends for what he’d done, he could never shake the shame of what he did in the name of ‘tradition’. The thought of teaching those same toxic beliefs and ideals to an innocent child made his stomach turn.

‘Teddy isn’t a pure-blood though,’ Draco said finally, grasping at straws, trying to think of something that would mean he didn’t have to do this. ‘I thought Professor Lupin was Half-blood. And Tonks definitely wasn’t a pure-blood.’

‘Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks aren’t here, and Edward is growing up in a pure-blood family. It’s important that he learns these things,’ Narcissa said, her tone taking on a sharper edge. 

‘I can’t do it, I don’t have the time. Work is too busy,’ Draco lied. Work wasn’t that busy, but invoking his career as an Unspeakable was always a good tactic to get his mother to back off. He could tell by her expression that Narcissa didn’t entirely believe him, but since his job was sustaining both of them and helping to slowly restore their standing in the magical community, he knew she wouldn’t push any further. As expected, but still to Draco’s great relief, the subject was dropped for the rest of their dinner, conversation returning to safer territories as Narcissa started telling Draco about the plans she had for the Manor’s gardens during the spring. 

Draco didn’t see Narcissa again until their next weekly Sunday dinner—work really had become busy, the Aurors requiring a consult on a case that had seen him working more overtime than he had in years. He loved his job, had found meaning there that he had never expected to find in his life, but sometimes becoming an expert in a niche topic seemed to have been a terrible decision. He adored researching potions, discovering how to refine previously clunky recipes and eliminate side-effects, and found a particular pleasure in identifying ways to improve detection of unusual potions and even specific ingredients. Sometimes though, he wished he was slightly less devoted to his job—particularly on weeks where the Aurors decided he was absolutely the _only_ person in the whole Ministry who could work on a case. It was flattering, in a lot of ways, and Draco would be lying if he said his ego didn’t enjoy it, but the confidence boost couldn’t make up for the lack of sleep and long hours spent in the office trying to determine the exact potion that was responsible for a number of deaths the Aurors were investigating. 

Needless to say, after the week he’d had, Draco wasn’t in the best of moods when he arrived at the Manor. Narcissa appeared to have sensed his mood, and didn’t ask him for much interaction. Instead she chatted away about the comings and goings of life at the Manor, the book she was reading, and the progress of the gardens. Just as Draco had been lulled into a false sense of security however, the topic of Teddy’s accidental magic reared its head once more. 

‘Poor Andromeda is starting to struggle with Edward,’ Narcissa began, Draco groaning internally as he braced himself for the guilt trip that was surely coming. ‘He somehow stuck himself to his bed on Tuesday morning because he didn’t want to wake up and go to school. Andromeda couldn’t get him out for several hours; she was beside herself with worry.’

‘That’s actually quite clever of him.’ Draco chuckled, picturing Teddy trapped in his bed, grinning as he got out of going to school while Andromeda tried anything she could think of to unstick him. 

‘Draco!’ Narcissa tutted. ‘She can’t go on like this—it’s already such a burden on her, raising a young child at her age, although of course she’d never say it. It’s important that Edward learns what is expected of him, how he should behave.’

Draco could feel his temper rising—he might not spend much time with his cousin, but he knew for a fact that Andromeda had never for a moment felt like Teddy’s presence in her life was a burden, however naughty he might be. The fact that Narcissa was stooping so low as to say something like that in an attempt to manipulate him into teaching Teddy pure-blood customs made his blood boil. 

‘Don’t say things like that, you know it’s not true,’ he retorted, more bluntly than he would normally dare to speak to his mother. ‘And I’m not doing it, I already told you I can’t.’

‘I wasn’t asking you to do it, Draco,’ Narcissa said serenely. ‘I’ll simply find someone else who will.’

‘What?’ Draco was blindsided. Who else was there? It was always the job of the eldest male relative. It wasn’t something that you could just outsource to anyone, the _Lectiones_ were supposed to be personal, about the family’s own history as well as wider pure-blood culture and traditions. 

‘Agnes was talking about her son at bridge this week, and he’s hired a tutor to teach his son, as his career doesn’t allow him time—he spends so much time abroad, you know, in his diplomatic role.’ 

‘So you’re going to hire Teddy a tutor?’ Draco couldn’t believe Narcissa would do such a thing, that she would trust someone outside of the family. 

‘Perhaps, yes,’ Narcissa confirmed, before their conversation was interrupted by their wizened old house-elf clearing the plates ready for dessert. 

Draco sat quietly as dessert was served, deep in thought. He’d thought by refusing to teach Teddy that he’d spare him from learning about it at all, but if hiring a tutor was a possibility… maybe Draco wasn’t doing Teddy a favour after all. Who knew what the tutor would teach? Maybe they would truly believe in all the superiority stuff, they might even be an old Voldemort sympathiser. Worst of all, what if they said something horrible about werewolves? Teddy could come out of this even more poisoned than Draco had been. Draco couldn’t let that happen.

‘Fine!’ Draco burst out. ‘Fine. I’ll do it.’

‘That’s very nice of you to offer, Draco, thank you. Andromeda will be so pleased.’ Narcissa smiled pleasantly at Draco, and Draco cursed himself for being so easily manipulated, even after so many years of attempting to avoid it. 

As Draco lay in bed that night, tossing and turning and failing to fall asleep, guilt curdled in his stomach. How could he teach Teddy all the lies he was brainwashed into believing as a child? Teddy was such a sweet, open, loving child. He shouldn’t have hate poured into his veins, hate that would warp him, damage him, make him do things he’d regret. Draco couldn’t be a part of that. After the war he’d made a promise to himself to make sure that things got _better_ ; that wizards, especially pure-bloods, learned from the mistakes of the war and realised that they weren’t better than anyone else. In fact, thinking that made them worse. And Draco would personally be very happy if all their traditions and misguided beliefs died out completely, vanishing forever just as Voldemort had. Giving Teddy these lessons would go against that promise completely, and certainly wouldn’t be what Professor Lupin and Tonks would have wanted for their child. 

Hours after he first got into bed, Draco finally began to drift off to sleep, his mind finally exhausted after an evening spent wrestling over the dilemma, struggling with the pain of remembering his own past behaviour. He knew he could never forget what he had done, that it was something he would always have to carry with him, but normally he used that as a motivation to be good, be _better_. Tonight it had only made him ache with regret and guilt, and he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he could go back in time and change it all.

It was too late for him, he would have to live with this guilt forever, but it wasn’t too late for Teddy. It was as his eyelids grew heavy and began to close that the solution came to him. He would teach Teddy about pure-blood culture, but not about how to live by its secret codes and prejudices. Instead he would teach him why it was wrong. He would give Teddy what he wished he’d had as a child, would be the adult he’d needed when he was young, someone more committed to the truth than to the disgusting lies he’d been told.

* * *

Draco spent the next week trying to decide how to tackle his lessons with Teddy. He saw him occasionally, but they certainly weren’t close, and Draco had never been good with children, so he had no idea how to even begin planning out their sessions. He took the Floo to the Manor one evening to borrow the Pensieve that had sat, untouched, in his father’s study since Lucius had been dragged off to Azkaban following his trial. Once home, he spent the night revisiting painful memories of his own _Lectiones_. It was hard, watching young Draco hanging off every word that his father spoke, soaking up the prejudice that had seemed so acceptable at the time. Draco wanted to reach through the memory and grab himself, tell him that this was all wrong, that he shouldn’t listen, that he didn’t have to live like this. 

It was draining, and combined with his still high workload, Draco was struggling. Each night he fell into bed completely wiped out, and he’d broken down in tears more than once, regrets overwhelming him as he remembered the terrible things he had done at Hogwarts. But it would all be worth it if he could stop Teddy having to hear the same things his father had told him. He carefully noted down all the traditions his father had discussed, all the ways Lucius had taught him how to be a proper pure-blood heir, and tried to think of ways he could teach Teddy the opposite. 

By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around, Draco felt sort of prepared. He had a stack of books from the Manor library tucked under one arm, and a letter from Narcissa clenched in his other hand, detailing a list of topics to discuss ranging from the appropriate robes to wear to a formal dinner to the necessity of betrothal and marriage contracts. He also had a separate piece of parchment, on which he’d written out what he wanted to say, the complete opposite to the contents of his mother’s letter. He knocked on the door of the stone cottage Andromeda had lived in ever since she got married, and waited, nerves building in his stomach with every second that passed. Eventually Andromeda opened the door to him, ushering him inside the cosy cottage, the noise of Teddy playing already audible in the background.

‘He’s a bit excitable today, just to warn you.’ Andromeda chuckled. ‘Harry took him out this morning, and he had far too much sugar.’

‘I’m sure he’ll get much less excited when I start telling him about the importance of arranged marriages and airtight wills.’ Draco laughed, following Andromeda into the dining room where they were going to have the lesson.

‘Thank you for doing this, Draco,’ Andromeda said as she gestured to him to make himself comfortable. ‘I understand that perhaps you didn’t quite want to do this, and I must admit I’m not convinced myself that it’s the best idea but, well, Narcissa insisted, and you know how she can get, so I’m willing to try it.’

Draco nodded awkwardly, unsure of what to say, but relieved to hear that Andromeda was less keen on the lessons than Narcissa was. It meant he wouldn’t have to try so hard to avoid her overhearing what he was going. 

‘Just—’ Andromeda added as she reached the doorway on her way to collect Teddy. ‘Just remember he’s young, and the world is different now.’

Draco nodded again, hoping that his face conveyed that he understood what she was saying and that he agreed, that he wouldn’t teach Teddy all the terrible things he had been taught. Andromeda seemed to understand him, as she left the room with a small smile, leaving Draco sitting alone, listening to the sound of her encouraging Teddy to stop playing and come and talk to his cousin. 

Despite his nerves at teaching a child for the first time and Teddy’s sugar rush, Draco thought their first lesson went relatively well. He began by explaining what pure-blood meant, and the way that historically pure-blood culture had kept to itself, distrusting anyone outside of a small group of families. Draco had found an old book in the Manor library that showed the initial grouping of pure-blood families, the basis of what became the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and he told Teddy about the descendants of these families, those who had been Draco’s friends and those who Teddy might meet when he started at Hogwarts. Teddy perked up at the mention of Hogwarts—clearly Draco had been right in thinking that he was desperate to start school—and Draco found himself going off on a tangent about how Hogwarts had been founded, and the debate that Salazar Slytherin had started. 

Teddy knew more than Draco had bargained for, as he started asking Draco about the Chamber of Secrets.

‘How do you know about that?’ Draco said, shocked.

‘Harry told me, did you know he can talk to snakes? It’s so cool,’ Teddy explained excitedly. 

‘What did he tell you?’ Draco hoped it wasn’t too graphic—he had no idea what level of detail Teddy could cope with.

‘That one of the Founders put a big snake in the castle because he didn’t like people with Muggle families and then sometimes the snake attacked people, like Hermione,’ Teddy said matter-of-factly. 

‘Yes, Slytherin thought that only pure-blood witches and wizards should be allowed to go to Hogwarts, but the other founders disagreed, so Muggle-borns and Half-bloods were allowed to come too. Lots of pure-bloods don’t like that, but they’re wrong,’ Draco looked intently at Teddy as he said this, wanting to make sure Teddy understood. ‘Everyone has a right to be at Hogwarts and learn how to use magic. I didn’t understand that when I was there, but when you go, make sure you welcome everyone and treat them the same.’ 

‘Did you know,’ Teddy continued, breezing right past Draco’s speech, far too distracted by thoughts of Hogwarts, ‘that there are ghosts there, and one of them doesn’t have a head?’

‘He does have a head, it’s just not properly attached.’ Of course Harry had been filling Teddy’s head with tales of Gryffindor and its ghost. ‘Every house has its own ghost though, so whichever house you’re in you’ll get to see one.’

‘I can’t wait to find out which house I’m in,’ Teddy said, before listing off on his fingers which house each of his extended family had been in, including every single Weasley.

‘It’s not that long to wait now and you’ll know. Just remember that whatever anyone says, each house has good qualities. People might say Slytherins are all evil or Hufflepuffs are all boring, but they’re wrong—there are good Slytherins, and Hufflepuffs aren’t even slightly dull.’

‘My mum was a Hufflepuff. I hope I’m one,’ Teddy replied, the reference to his mother slipping out without any hesitation. Draco had noticed that there were plenty of photos of Tonks and the odd one of Professor Lupin scattered around the house, and he wondered what exactly Teddy knew about the circumstances of his parents death. He hoped he didn’t know how much of a part Draco had played—although Draco knew he would deserve it, he didn’t want Teddy to hate him. 

‘You’d be a great Hufflepuff, they’d be lucky to have you,’ Draco said sincerely. 

Draco spent the rest of the afternoon answering Teddy’s questions about Hogwarts, deciding that he’d said enough about pure-blood culture for one day. He didn’t want to lay it on too thick, and he wanted to leave time for his message to sink in. They had plenty more lessons left to cover everything else, after all. By the time Andromeda came in to tell Teddy it was tea time, Draco was exhausted, the incessant chatter and enthusiasm of his cousin more tiring than he’d anticipated, not to mention the reminders of his own chequered history. He returned home completely drained, sinking onto his sofa with great relief, but there was a little kernel of warmth lodged in his heart as he reminded himself that he was on his way to stopping the next generation of the family making the same mistakes he had.

* * *

The lessons continued, Draco spending several hours of his Saturday afternoons round at Andromeda’s, working his way through his modified version of his mother’s list. Some of the items on there didn’t need changing much—Draco gave Teddy a very quick rundown of the types of robes one should wear to specific events (information that he knew Teddy would immediately forget, and who could blame him?) and of the traditional baby name choices available to pure-blood families, Teddy laughing at some of the ridiculous names that kept cropping up in the Black and Malfoy families. 

Some topics were much harder though, and Draco had been wary of bringing them up, still not entirely sure how to broach them. Teddy was the one who brought up the war first, asking why Draco had been on the opposite side to Harry, and Draco had to scramble to find the words to explain why blindly following your family and their beliefs wasn’t always the right thing to do, no matter what your parents and the people you trusted were telling you. Draco had cried when he got home after that session, and the lesson where they had discussed the traditional role of the heir of the family also left him aching with sadness for the child he had been and the things he’d done wrong. He thought he’d worked through a lot of the conflicting feelings he’d had towards his family after the end of the war—he’d even had a few sessions with a Mind Healer once his court-mandated house arrest came to an end—but talking about it with Teddy was bringing all the pain to the surface again. 

Sometimes Teddy seemed interested in the lessons, particularly when it came to the more recent aspects of pure-blood history such as the war which had deprived him of his parents. But when Draco began to talk about old customs and traditions Teddy visibly glazed over, becoming fidgety and uncooperative. Draco understood, truly; he’d never enjoyed these lessons, but he was worried Teddy wasn’t taking in the important messages about tolerance and the need to change traditions to reflect the way the world was now because he was already bored by the time Draco began to talk about them. Draco knew he needed a change of tactic, but he had no idea what to do.

To Draco’s great surprise, he got his answer from Harry. Draco arrived promptly at Andromeda’s as always for Teddy’s fifth lesson, but was taken aback when he walked into the living room to find Teddy and Harry involved in a rather intense looking wrestling match.

‘Erm, hello,’ Draco said awkwardly when neither of them looked up from their fight.

‘Oh, hi, Draco,’ Harry said, looking over to where Draco was hovering in the doorway, before letting out a loud groan as Teddy jumped onto his stomach.

‘Don’t mind them, Draco, they’re like little children when they play together,’ Andromeda said, pressing a hot cup of tea into Draco’s hands. ‘They’ll wear each other out soon enough.’

Draco and Andromeda watched Harry and Teddy wrestle for ten minutes or so, Draco drinking his tea and chatting with Andromeda as they waited for the fight to come to a conclusion. It gave Draco a good opportunity to properly look at Harry while his attention was otherwise occupied. Draco had seen Harry a few times over the past few years, passing each other in the halls of the Ministry and at several painful services to commemorate the end of the war. Draco hadn’t had a chance to look at him this closely though since Harry had provided testimony to support Draco at his trial. Harry had been a shell of a man then, drained and nearly dead on his feet; the large dark bags under his eyes and the way his clothes hung off his too skinny frame spoke eloquently of too many funerals, too much attention, too much grief. 

Present day Harry was different, lighter, his laugh echoing around the room as Teddy attempted to tickle him. The bags under his eyes were gone, his skin glowed with the exertion of play-fighting but also from happiness and contentment. His hair was still a complete mess, made worse from rolling around on the floor—and Merlin, Draco wouldn’t acknowledge the way that made him feel—and he’d bulked up, the flash of toned stomach that kept appearing as his t-shirt got pulled up during the fight suggesting that Harry was definitely working out. He just seemed _happy_ , and that was the starkest difference. He didn’t look like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, as he so often had during school and at Draco’s trial. He was laughing freely, clearly loving every minute of his time with Teddy, and Draco found himself strangely unable to look away. 

By the time the fight eventually petered out, Andromeda had long given up on watching and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen, and Draco had made himself comfortable on the sofa. Teddy dashed off to get a drink and a snack from Andromeda to keep him going through the lesson, and Draco was left alone with Harry for the first time in forever. He had no idea what to say, all possible topics of conversation deserting him apart from those that would immediately reference their past, and he didn’t really feel like starting a fight right now. It was hard enough to come here and teach Teddy about pure-blood beliefs, he didn’t need any more of a reminder about what he had done as a result of them. Harry didn’t seem at all bothered by the awkwardness though, sinking onto the sofa next to Draco with a groan. 

‘God, play-fighting with him was fine when he was small, he’s really way too big now,’ Harry chuckled, rubbing his ribs and wincing. 

‘He did look like he was beating you quite thoroughly,’ Draco replied.

‘He does every time,’ Harry sighed. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

‘Oh.’ Draco had assumed Harry knew, and he didn’t much fancy trying to explain what he was doing. Harry was sure to jump to the worst conclusions and assume that Draco was trying to indoctrinate Teddy into hatred. ‘I have to teach him about pure-blood history. It’s a kind of rite of passage of growing up, but I’m trying to teach him differently to how I was taught.’

‘Ah yeah, Teddy did say something about history lessons—he, um, didn’t seem too interested in them though to be honest.’ Harry laughed awkwardly. ‘What do you mean you’re trying to do them differently though? Surely the history is just the way it is?’

‘Yes, I’d noticed he’s getting a bit bored, it’s just a bit hard to make inheritance rituals interesting to a ten year old. And I suppose I’m trying to teach him not to blindly believe things he’s told, teach him that Muggles aren’t dirt and that they do have value. Really I just want to make sure he doesn’t get sucked into the pure-blood superiority crap like I did.’ Draco found himself slightly out of breath at the end of his explanation, the words pouring out of, leaving him shocked that he’d just told Harry of all people so much. 

‘Huh,’ Harry said, frustratingly giving Draco no indication of what he thought of Draco’s monologue. ‘If you want to make the lessons more interesting, maybe you should show him stuff rather than just tell him.’

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I don’t know, just, like, take him out into the world and talk to him about Muggles with them actually there, stuff like that. Or show him places that are important to pure-blood history—you guys must have some old castle somewhere that is the site of the decision to only marry your cousins or something.’

‘That’s not actually a rule we have you know,’ Draco retorted, aware that Harry was just joking but also stung a little by the jab at his family and their past. ‘But maybe you’re right; taking him out somewhere would definitely make the lessons more interesting.’

‘Happy to be of service,’ Harry said as Teddy and Andromeda came back into the room, Teddy happily chomping his way through a bag of Hula Hoops.

‘Right, well I’ll leave you all to it,’ Harry continued, heaving himself off the sofa with a grunt. ‘Enjoy your lesson, Ted, and I’ll see you next week.’ With a quick ruffle of Teddy’s bright blue hair and a hug for Andromeda, Harry was gone, leaving Draco behind to try and get his thoughts away from Harry and back onto the dull topic of inheritance.

Harry’s suggestion stayed with Draco though, especially when he noticed Teddy zoning out while he lectured again. That evening, Draco didn’t go straight home from Andromeda’s, heading instead to the library near his house where he could use the computer. He’d tried for ages to get the laptop he’d bought to work in his flat, but he just couldn’t get it to cooperate with all the magic around, even using the new Magic Suppressing Charms that had recently become all the rage. Instead he had become a regular patron of the local library, settling himself there whenever he needed to research something. He’d even ended up with quite a taste for Muggle literature, and now had a rather sizeable stack of borrowed books on his bedside table.

Draco started his search by quickly typing in _‘things to do with a child in London’_ and immediately ended up with pages and pages of Google results. He scrolled through them all, making a note of places that seemed interesting enough to capture Teddy’s imagination. He’d soon filled a page of his notebook with ideas, and resolved to take Teddy to one of them the following weekend. 

His final stop before going back to his flat was the Manor. He knew Harry had been joking about the castle for marrying cousins, but that didn’t mean Harry didn’t have a point. There were certainly places that Draco could take Teddy where he would see pure-blood culture in real life, places that Draco had regularly visited as a child, and places where he could go and feel the magic bubbling up beneath his feet and understand the need to protect it that had driven pure-blood families for centuries. Somewhere in the Manor’s vast library Draco would be able to find a list of these locations. Hours later, armed with a stack of old books and his list from the internet, Draco finally apparated home, exhausted but excited by his new plan for him and Teddy.

* * *

Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough for Draco, too impatient to see Teddy again. Now that he had the idea for the trips, Draco suddenly felt energised and excited about the lessons, and he was looking forward to actually doing something fun with Teddy. Work had been fairly quiet for once, and he’d actually managed to leave at a reasonable hour most days, something he didn’t usually manage. He spent every evening poring over the books he’d borrowed from the Manor, searching for details of historically important magical locations, excitement building in his stomach with each location he added to the list. He loved the idea of taking Teddy back to where it all began, before it got twisted and warped and became about being superior to everyone else. He just wanted to show Teddy why everyone loved magic so much, why it deserved protecting. He hoped that by combining it with trips into the Muggle world, Teddy would see the best of both worlds, and understand how both traditional wizarding culture and Muggle culture had something to offer. Teddy was a Half-blood, after all, and should know about both sides of his heritage. 

Draco arrived at Andromeda’s earlier than usual on Saturday, wanting to make sure he and Teddy had enough time for the activity he had planned. He’d got in touch with her earlier in the week to explain his idea and make sure she was happy with him taking Teddy off on adventures. His worry had melted away, a weight sliding off his shoulders, when she had agreed, noting that Teddy did indeed seem very bored with the lessons in their current format, and said she was more than happy for him to discover more about the Muggle world. She’d admitted that she’d always planned to raise him with a wider awareness of Muggles—her marriage to Ted had left her relatively well-versed in Muggle life— but that her health and her dislike of the crowds in London had stopped her from taking him out as often as she would have liked. Teddy had been informed of the plan and was waiting by the door when Draco arrived, shoes on, backpack with snacks firmly on his back, bouncing up and down with excitement. 

The first major challenge of their day involved tackling the Tube. Draco Side-Alonged them from Andromeda’s house to a secluded patch of trees in a park near the centre of London. He could have Apparated them straight to their destination, of course, but everything he had read about Muggles seemed to suggest that getting the Tube was an important and eye-opening experience, and a great way to find yourself surrounded by a wide variety of people from all walks of life. They walked from the park to the nearest Tube station, Teddy excitedly telling Draco about his week and the Quidditch match Harry was taking him to the next day. Apart from Draco constantly reminding Teddy to keep his voice down when talking about magical things, their journey to the Tube station went very smoothly, and Draco began to feel his confidence grow, the tension in his shoulders disappearing and his frown smoothing out. 

Things started to go wrong, however, as soon as they entered the Tube station. Draco had been to Gringotts and exchanged some of his Galleons for Muggle money, so they headed straight for the ticket machines, Draco desperately hoping he could remember how Muggle money worked. He wasn’t completely useless with technology—he knew how to use a computer for Merlin’s sake—but the machine was slow and unresponsive each time he jabbed at it with his finger, and his frustration grew each time he accidentally poked the wrong option and had to backtrack. A queue was starting to form behind him, people even starting to pointedly look at their watches or tap their feet in a sure sign of extreme impatience, but as Draco grew more self-conscious about his slowness, he just got clumsier. When he finally got to the point of paying for their tickets, he thought the worst was over, but then he fumbled and dropped a bunch of money on the floor, Teddy shrieking and chasing after the coins as Draco hurriedly picked up the notes. It was painfully embarrassing, and Draco’s cheeks were still burning when they eventually made it onto the train. 

Teddy didn’t seem too perturbed however, and happily clung on to the pole as the train slowly left the station, his face lighting up in wonder as it picked up speed and began racing through the tunnels. He alternated between looking out of the window as if trying to see something in the gloom and gazing around at all the other passengers, watching with interest as they tapped away on their phones or bobbed their heads slightly to the music playing through the headphones they wore. Draco wasn’t a complete stranger to Muggle London—he’d spent his fair share of time in the clubs of Soho—so was at least vaguely aware of a lot of Muggle technology, but it was all very new to Teddy. Draco found himself quietly whispering explanations of each device to Teddy, praying that the noise of the train screeching along the tracks would be enough to stop any eavesdropping. 

After several stops, and lots of people watching, they made it to their destination and joined the crowd of people leaving the train and flooding out of the Tube station, Draco obsessively checking that Teddy was still by his side. Losing him in the central London crowds was beyond thinking about, after Andromeda had trusted him to take Teddy on these trips. He’d only just started to get to know his cousin, and didn’t want anything to jeopardise the time they had together.

Once they were out onto the street, Draco pulled Teddy to one side, getting them out of the way of the crowds as much as possible, and began pointing out landmarks as they walked. He showed Teddy the Houses of Parliament, comparing it to the Ministry of Magic, just as busy making decisions and passing laws. Teddy was very impressed by Big Ben, proclaiming it the biggest clock he’d ever seen, and wondering if it would be possible to add hands to it for all his family, just like Mrs Weasley’s clock. Draco gestured to all the people walking around them, speaking countless different languages and gazing around at the sights with the same wide-eyed look of interest that was on Teddy’s own face, and told Teddy about how people loved to come and see this famous place, where laws were made that were supposed to—at least in theory—make life better for everyone. Draco described how the Muggles elected their own leaders and how that was different to the way the Ministry worked; careful to make sure that he explained it in a way that would make sense to Teddy and present him a balanced view of both systems. He made a mental note to take Teddy to the Ministry on one of their next trips.

When Teddy’s attention started to wander, Draco decided it was time they moved on, and they walked slowly across Westminster Bridge, pausing to look over the side at the water below and the boats passing underneath them. Draco had been planning to get Teddy an ice cream and then start the journey home, but as they passed the aquarium Teddy turned to Draco and begged to go in, puppy dog eyes in full effect. Surprisingly unable to say no, unwilling to deny Teddy anything that would mean he enjoyed their time together, Draco led Teddy into the aquarium, once again fumbling slightly with the money—he’d forgotten everything he’d memorised about Muggle currency that morning—and staring blankly when the cashier asked if he wanted to use contactless. Thankfully the cashier was clearly used to tourists who didn’t quite know how many pennies went into a pound, so she kindly helped him, her friendliness sparing more of Draco’s blushes. It was all worth it though, to see the wonder on Teddy’s face as they walked through the aquarium, pausing in front of each tank to look at the huge sharks and colourful fish. Even Draco’s mishap with the lift—he just couldn’t get the door to stop closing and then immediately opening again—couldn’t put a damper on the day. 

By the time Draco got Teddy back to Andromeda’s they were both exhausted but happy, and Draco couldn’t help but think how grateful he was that Harry had suggested the idea of trips out. It was going to make all the difference to the lessons, and Draco couldn’t wait for the next one.

* * *

Draco had decided to focus on magical life for their next trip after their Muggle-focused day the weekend before. To further build on what he'd told Teddy while they looked at the Houses of Parliament he planned to start the day with a quick trip to the Ministry. Despite the fact that much of Draco's work was top secret, he had confirmed with his boss that it was alright to bring Teddy to his office for a quick visit, although he’d had to swear on his life that he wouldn’t take Teddy into the Department of Mysteries or talk about his job in too much detail. After that he was hoping to take Teddy to Gracebourne Estate, where generations of Blacks had got married, along with many other pure-blood families. What he hadn't planned on was seeing Harry. And yet there he was once again when Draco arrived to pick Teddy up; this time both of them sat on the sofa listening intently to a Harpies match on the Wireless.

‘Ready to go, Teddy?’ Draco said when he finally tore his attention away from the match long enough to notice his arrival.

‘Yep!’ Teddy replied, running off to find his shoes, the match forgotten in anticipation of their trip out. 

‘He seems excited today,’ Harry noted, shifting on the sofa so that he could face Draco properly. ‘The trips out seem to be working then?’

‘So far, yes.’ Draco nodded, caught off guard by the way Harry was looking so intently at him. ‘Minus a few incidents with Muggle technology anyway,’ he added with a slightly awkward chuckle which he immediately hated himself for.

‘Yeah, Teddy might have mentioned that. I—uh—well, I thought maybe I could come along? On your trips that is, to help out with the Muggle stuff.’ Harry actually looked nervous as he waited for Draco’s response, his expression losing some of its easy confidence as he nibbled on his lip.

‘Well we aren’t doing anything Muggle today… but I suppose you could still come with us,’ Draco hurriedly added as Harry’s face began to fall. He didn’t much like the idea of trying to explain pure-blood marriage traditions to someone like Harry who would clearly be very sceptical if not outright rude about them—they might be old fashioned, but they were a central part of the way Draco had been raised to view the world—but something in him hated the idea of saying no and disappointing Harry. 

‘Right, come on then,’ Draco said when Teddy’s return broke the slightly awkward silence that had fallen over the living room. ‘We’ve got a lot to do today.’

The journey to the Ministry was far smoother than their Tube journey the previous week, and within minutes they were in Draco’s office. It wasn’t the biggest, or the most well appointed, but he loved it. It was his space, and over the years he’d worked at the Ministry he’d tried to make it his own. The boring wallpaper that lined the room was obscured by bookshelves he’d brought in which housed his extensive selection of magical theory books, as well as a few novels that he liked to read on the rare occasion he actually got to take a lunch break. He’d found a rug in an antiques shop that covered the cold flagstones on the floor, making the room cosier than it had been when he’d first taken ownership of it. It felt like such a private place, an extension of himself, that he felt vulnerable showing Harry. Having Teddy there didn’t feel like such a big deal— he’d immediately been distracted by a very rare and fiddly contraption that Draco had left on his desk when he’d left work on Friday evening—whereas Harry was still looking around, taking his time to peruse the bookshelves and look at the pictures on Draco’s desk. Draco couldn’t help watching Harry, taking in the way his hands moved as he picked up objects on Draco’s desk, and the way his expression changed when he spotted something that gave away a little more of Draco’s inner workings. He couldn’t help but hope that everything Harry saw was giving him a favourable impression of Draco—for reasons he couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, quite articulate, it mattered what Harry thought of him.

Harry finally stopped looking around, and Draco hoped the inspection of his inner workings was over, but then Harry started asking questions. He wanted to know what Draco did and why, how he had ended up here, what he did most days. It was almost as though Harry had been missing Ministry life—he had quit the Aurors less than a year after starting and never returned to the Ministry—and was soaking up details of it through Draco. He wanted to know if the fish pie served in the canteen was still just as horrible as it had been all those years ago, whether Albert, a notoriously grumpy magical maintenance worker, was still terrorising the corridors. They ended up talking for far longer than Draco had expected, Harry asking just the right questions to get him to open up about his job, the stories flowing out of him as best as they could considering the Non-Disclosure Charm he was under. They talked for so long that Teddy started complaining, fiddling with anything he could find as he waited for them to leave. When they finally gave in to Teddy’s demands to get on, Draco was in a daze. He couldn’t believe he’d just spent so long talking to Harry, sharing details of his life and work, and enjoying every minute of it.

Draco’s good mood vanished immediately however when Teddy asked what was on the lowest floor of the Ministry, replaced with churning anxiety and guilt. Draco was unable to come up with a reason not to take Teddy there—it was only one floor down—and so on shaking legs, he lead the way to the courtrooms. He hadn’t been back here since his father’s sentencing. Since the last time he’d seen his father.

When they entered the courtroom, Draco didn’t say anything, a wave of confusing emotions overpowering him, a mix of sadness, loss, and extreme guilt. It felt at once like no time at all had passed since he had been standing there waiting to be judged for his crimes, and as though it was a thousand years ago. He felt so old, picturing his eighteen-year-old self facing the court. He tried to ignore the glances he noticed Harry shooting his way, refusing to look over in case he saw pity, or worse, on Harry’s face. 

Harry had been there, of course, at his trial. But they had never talked about it, and Draco didn’t feel like he could yet, especially not with Teddy there. To Draco’s great relief, Harry took the reins of the conversation, sparing him from trying to talk around the lump that had formed in his throat. He half-listened to Harry explaining the wizarding justice system to Teddy, trying to pay attention to what Harry was saying so that he could expand on it further during a future lesson. But with every word Harry said about the process of charging someone with a crime and putting them on trial for it, Draco couldn’t stop the flashbacks to his own post war experience. He knew he’d done terrible, terrible things, things he probably couldn’t ever make up for, but with the new perspective on his childhood that he’d gained from teaching Teddy, his heart ached for the misguided child who had been brainwashed into believing he was doing the right thing. 

Draco had to hurriedly brush the tears from his cheeks when Harry finished talking to Teddy and suggested that they leave, hoping that Harry hadn’t spotted it but knowing from the look on Harry’s face that he had. As they made their way out of the courtroom, Harry’s hand brushed against Draco’s shoulder, a light touch that could so easily have been imagined, but Draco could still feel the imprint of that hand as they left the Ministry, a phantom presence that set his nerves alight. His physical awareness of Harry only increased when they slipped into an alley behind the Ministry so that Draco could Side-Along Harry and Teddy to their next destination, Draco’s stomach flipping as he wrapped a hand around Harry’s arm in preparation for Disapparition.

They appeared in the grounds of an old country house, far older than the Manor, its exterior now starting to show signs of age and neglect, the grass growing up over the soles of Draco’s shoes. 

‘What is this place?’ Harry asked.

‘It’s Gracebourne Estate. It’s where all the Blacks have got married, going back centuries. Lots of other pure-blood families too, of course, but we’re here for the Black connection.’

‘Did your parents get married here?’

‘Of course. My mother’s parents insisted. There haven’t been many weddings here in recent years though, they were the last Blacks to marry here. I did attend a few weddings here as a child, but I can’t believe how dilapidated it’s got.’

‘Were you supposed to get married here?’

Harry’s question hung in the air as Draco looked around the grounds, searching for time as he debated how to answer, unsure of how much to reveal. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, that intense gaze that he’d felt trained in his direction more and more frequently over the past few weeks setting off a flurry of jitters in his stomach.Teddy had run off soon after they had started chatting, his eyes lighting up as he spotted the tree that a younger Draco used to sneak off and climb during boring ceremonies. Draco watched as he swung wildly from one of the branches, a tiny tug of jealousy pulling at his heart. He wished he could have been that free as a child. 

‘Draco?’ Harry interrupted Draco’s thoughts, and he sighed, deciding that he wouldn’t lie, he couldn’t lie to Harry. Something about him made Draco want to be honest for once. 

‘Yes, I was supposed to get married here. I was supposed to do a lot of things, supposed to follow all the rules my mother wants me to teach Teddy, and yes, that would be one of them. Maybe even the most important one.’

‘Could you still get married here? It’s not too late. You’re not too old to get married yet,’ Harry added, a teasing edge to his voice that briefly lightened the mood.

‘I know,’ Draco chuckled ruefully. ‘But no, I couldn’t get married here.’

‘Why not? I know it’s a bit shabby but it wouldn’t take much to fix it up would it? Surely the Malfoy name could get it sorted out.’

‘Merlin you don’t give up do you? No wonder you managed to defeat Voldemort with persistence like that.’ Draco laughed, before his tone turned serious once again. ‘It’s not that it’s a bit run down, that could be fixed, although I do think you’re seriously overestimating the power the Malfoy name has now. It’s that I wouldn’t be allowed to have the wedding I want here, to the person I want.’

‘Who can’t you marry here? Do they have rules? Is it a strict pure-blood only thing?’ If anyone else had been asking all these questions, pressing on such a sore spot for Draco, he would have told them to fuck off and mind their own business, but for some reason he couldn’t get angry with Harry, and instead found himself wanting to open up, to talk about the things he always struggled to discuss with his friends. 

‘They do have rules, yes. No marrying Half-bloods, Muggle-borns, or Muggles of course.’ Draco took a deep breath, and added; ‘and no marrying men, either.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. ‘I suppose I couldn’t get married here either, then.’

‘You want to marry a Muggle?’ Draco said cautiously, thinking that he knew what Harry was trying to say but wanting to confirm it either way. 

‘I mean, I wouldn’t rule it out, but apparently it doesn’t matter whether he’s Muggle or pure-blood.’ Harry shrugged, the way his eyes met Draco’s as he confirmed his suspicions making Draco’s heart flip. Draco didn’t say anything in response, just nodded and let a small smile spread across his face, a smile which was met by a much larger one from Harry, and they lapsed into silence, watching Teddy play. The knowledge that Harry was gay too had a curious sensation of hope blossoming in Draco’s stomach, a sensation that he tried to tamp down—however curious he might be about Harry and however attractive he did admittedly find him, nothing was going to happen, ever.

* * *

Things between Harry and Draco lightened after that conversation, as though sharing something personal about themselves that they happened to have in common had finally thawed the little ice that had remained between them. Harry continued to accompany Draco and Teddy on their trips, and soon it was just assumed that the three of them would of course be going together. Draco began to bear Harry in mind when planning the next outing, trying to think of things Harry would enjoy or aspects of pure-blood culture he might be interested in learning about—it was partly his history too, after all. 

They went to a wide variety of places together, some more successful than others. Teddy had adored going to watch a Harpies match from one of the VIP boxes, screaming himself hoarse every time Ginny so much as flew near the Quaffle. Draco had enjoyed it more than he’d expected, and Harry clearly had too, judging by the beaming grin that had stayed on his face the whole time, a grin that Draco kept having to tear his eyes away from. 

Harry had suggested a trip to London Zoo, for reasons that he refused to share until he forced them all to stop in front of one specific tank in the Reptile House. There, in a quiet voice, he explained to both of them that this was one of the places it had all started for him, making Teddy burst out laughing as he described the snake incident. They’d had to leave the Reptile House in a hurry, both stifling laughter, as Teddy kept trying to speak Parseltongue to all the snakes in an attempt to replicate what Harry had done, and Draco and Harry were both afraid that either he would succeed, and a snake would indeed escape, or that one of them would inadvertently talk too loudly about magic and break the International Statute of Secrecy. 

Some of their trips into Muggle London were distinctly less successful however, especially when Harry decided to sit back and let Draco take the reins in an attempt to prove that he was perfectly able to deal with Muggles, thank you very much. It turned out that Draco was in need of more help than he would let on, as he discovered when he tried to use the self-checkout in Tesco, the robotic voice screeching at him to put his items in the bagging area, and when a Muggle asked him for directions to Trafalgar Square. Each time he nearly died of embarrassment, hating that he had shown himself up in front of Harry. But Harry was always gracious, waving away questions from concerned onlookers and slowly explaining how to actually use the till, or jumping in to direct the stranger himself. It hadn’t been the point of the lessons, but Draco found himself learning more and more about the Muggle world with each trip they took, he and Teddy both eagerly soaking up the knowledge that Harry so freely shared with them. 

It got to the point where Harry was so invested in the trips that he began to send Draco owls with suggestions of places to go. The first time Draco received one he nearly fainted in shock when he unravelled the parchment to find a short note in Harry’s messy handwriting that simply read:

_Natural History Museum next weekend? Think Teddy would find the dinosaurs cool._

_H_

_P.S. There’s also some stuff about stars—you can show Teddy your constellation and talk about all your pure-blood naming crap if you want. But mainly, dinosaurs._

From that note on, Draco and Harry regular correspondence. At first they just discussed their trips, planning things they could do in the future, or talking about Teddy’s reaction to the previous one. Gradually though, their notes began to branch out into more general topics, first about a tough day Harry had at work, then about the theory Draco was trying to prove and Teddy’s latest obsession with something called Pokémon. Throughout the day Draco’s eyes would flick over to the window, checking whether an owl was on the horizon, excitement rushing over him each time he unrolled a new note from Harry. The more Draco learned about Harry and his life, the more he wanted to know, their messages getting longer and longer each time. It was on the verge of taking over his life, thoughts of Harry, and their notes, and their trips, and Teddy distracting him from his work and life to the point that his boss had to pull him into his office to ask what on earth was hindering his progress with his investigation. 

One idea Harry had suggested in one of his notes was a cinema trip. He said that Teddy always enjoyed watching TV at Harry’s house—evidently he’d managed to get around the issue of magic and technology—and Harry had mentioned that he’d been to the cinema once as a child and loved it. Harry hadn’t gone into any more detail, and Draco didn’t press, but he did wonder why Harry had only been once, when it seemed as though Muggles went to the cinema a lot. Harry never talked about his childhood though, and Draco didn’t ask any questions—he could quite understand having a past you weren’t too keen to talk about. Instead, Draco simply agreed that it sounded like a good idea, and suggested that Harry book them some tickets for their next trip. 

Draco met Harry and Teddy outside the cinema in the small town nearest to Andromeda’s house. Teddy practically bounced as he walked down the street towards Draco, his excited voice clearly audible despite still being a few metres away. Draco was also looking forward to the cinema trip, and seeing Teddy’s enthusiasm had his own soaring even further. When Harry and Teddy caught up to Draco, they went straight inside, Teddy not wanting to miss a single minute of the experience. They decided that Draco would buy the tickets— he wanted to practice buying Muggle things—but Harry insisted on paying for his own ticket and half of Teddy’s, so he passed Draco a handful of coins. Draco couldn’t tell if he’d imagined it, but it seemed as though Harry lingered as he handed over the money, his fingertips grazing Draco’s palm and setting all his nerves alight. Shaken, Draco completely forgot what film they wanted to see, and Harry had to lean over and whisper it to him, which of course only served to make him feel even more flustered.

Tickets finally purchased, they filed into the cinema, finding their seats in the dim light. Draco had assumed that Teddy would sit in between the two of them, but he insisted that the seat on the end of the three they had selected was the best placed, and he absolutely would not sit anywhere else. Doing as they were told, Harry and Draco settled in the remaining two seats, Harry next to Teddy and Draco on the end. The lights dimmed further as they sat down, and the trailers began to play on the screen. Teddy was immediately entranced, his expression comical with his wide eyes and open mouth. The trailers managed to hold Draco’s attention for a while, soaking up the details of Muggle life that he saw depicted in the adverts and film trailers. But then Harry moved slightly, and Draco lost all interest in what was happening on the screen. 

Harry had put his arm on the arm rest, eyes still firmly on the screen and seemingly oblivious to the fact that his arm was now pressed against Draco’s, who was definitely not oblivious to it at all. In fact, all of Draco’s attention was now firmly focused on the points where their skin touched, the world narrowing to just the feel of Harry’s skin on his. He was dimly aware of the film starting, dramatic music filling the cinema as the opening scene began, but his attention barely strayed from Harry’s arm, even as he kept his eyes locked on the screen, trying to seem unaffected. 

Spaceships flew past on the screen, the cartoon colours bright and the music loud but it still wasn't enough to make Draco focus on the film. He could hear Teddy muttering excitedly to Harry each time something cool happened, the low tone of Harry's voice each time he responded sending shivers down Draco's spine. He thought he might lose his mind, sitting there touching Harry in such an innocent way which nonetheless had far from innocent thoughts flooding his brain. He'd been battling with his attraction to Harry for weeks now, just about keeping it in check, even through all the letters and trips, but the reality of Harry's skin against his was breaking down all the walls he'd carefully built around his inconvenient feelings. 

Harry shifted next to Draco, his arm brushing along Draco’s, his hand moving, his fingers nudging Draco’s. Draco’s heart was pounding, so loud he wondered if Harry would be able to hear it even over the noise of the film, worried that he would give away his reaction to the way Harry’s fingers were lightly brushing the back of his hand. It almost seemed as though Harry was doing it deliberately—surely he couldn’t have been lingering so long by accident? Just the thought had Draco feeling like he might faint, all his awareness focused on to his hand and the gentle feeling of Harry’s fingers on his skin. He was starting to think that Harry was definitely doing it on purpose; even though Harry still had his eyes fixed firmly on the film they seemed unfocused, and the corner of his mouth had quirked up in a slight smile that set excitement racing through Draco’s veins. Draco sat stock still as Harry explored the back of his hand, unable to move from shock and nerves as Harry’s fingers moved to Draco’s palm, gently nudging his hand until it sat facing upwards. Harry’s fingers ran along his heartline, his lifeline, tracing up the length of each of his fingers in turn, and Draco thought he might die. He’d never thought that he could feel so much from such a gentle touch, and yet it was somehow the most sensual, romantic thing that he’d ever experienced. 

Harry finally took Draco's hand, his fingers fitting perfectly between Draco's, his palm warm and slightly rough against Draco's. A rush of emotion overwhelmed Draco, leaving him reeling from the force; a feeling of rightness rushing over him as the butterflies in his stomach took flight in a riot of wings and joy. The smile on Harry's face had grown, and Draco's heart sang to see his own happiness reflected back at him in the dim light of the cinema. The film was long forgotten as Draco mentally catalogued every inch of Harry's hand, from the calluses on his palm to the feel of his thumb as it gently moved backwards and forwards over the back of Draco's hand, each stroke taking him apart even more. 

The end of the film took Draco by surprise, too wrapped up in thoughts of Harry and his hands to notice the credits begin to roll. He hadn't taken in a single frame of the film. He couldn’t have even begun to describe what it had been about. Harry seemed equally taken aback, as Teddy had to poke him in the side to make him realise it was time to leave. With a small smile and a rueful glance at Draco, Harry let go of his hand and got up, following Teddy out of the cinema. Draco brought up the rear in a daze, his hand still tingling with awareness and the ghost of Harry's touch.

Once they were out on the pavement outside the cinema, stood slightly to one side to allow the stream of other customers to hurry past, they paused. Harry turned to look at Draco, uncertainty written across every line of his face. This was usually the moment when they parted ways, one of them—usually Harry—dropped Teddy back at Andromeda's while the other headed home. But Draco didn't want to go home. Didn't want this to be over yet, afraid that leaving would break the spell that had fallen over them in the hush of the cinema. 

'Teddy's staying at mine tonight,' Harry said, breaking the silence. 

'We're going to watch more films and eat Muggle sweets!' Teddy added excitedly.

'That's the plan, yeah,' Harry agreed, smiling down at Teddy in a way that made Draco's heart ache. Harry's eyes flicked back up to Draco, and he continued, tone more hesitant now. 'D'you—do you want to join us?'

'Yes,' Draco blurted, his need to not leave Harry yet overpowering his normal tendency to think before speaking. 'I mean, yes, that would be nice,' he added, cursing the blush that he could feel warming his cheeks.

The grin that Harry shot his way made up for any embarrassment Draco felt at his hasty acceptance however, as did the way Harry once again linked their fingers so they could Apparate to his house from the alley behind the cinema. 

The power of Harry's Apparition combined with his hand in Draco's left Draco reeling when they arrived, the adjustment to a new location taking longer than usual. They'd appeared in a tucked away side street, lined with terraced houses. It felt worlds away from the hustle and bustle of London, even though Draco knew they hadn't left the city. As Draco looked up and down the street, curious to see where Harry had chosen to live, Harry's house appeared from between two others. An eggshell blue front door contrasted with the brick walls of the three storey house, and two Laurel bushes stood either side of the three steps that led to the door. Draco followed Harry and Teddy into the house, shivering as the wards washed over him and drinking in every detail as Harry led them down the hall, pointing out various rooms as they walked. Teddy ran ahead into the living room, jumping on to a comfortable looking sofa and immediately reaching for the TV controller. Clearly he was very familiar with Harry's house, and Draco wondered just how often Teddy stayed here. They left Teddy in the living room, the TV already blaring music, and Harry showed Draco into the kitchen, promising cups of tea and biscuits. 

Harry's kitchen was modern: the dark slate tiles on the floor complemented the white units, and it was fully kitted out with lots of appliances that Draco didn't recognise but which he knew were Muggle. Harry quickly busied himself with filling up the kettle, asking Draco to grab them a couple of mugs out of the cupboard he indicated. Draco did as requested but couldn’t hold back a rather undignified snort of laughter when he read the writing on the side of one of the cups he’d chosen. 

‘ _Dickhead no 1_? Interesting choice of mug,’ Draco said, one eyebrow raised as he waved the offending mug in Harry’s direction. It had a large, extremely unflattering photo of Harry on it to accompany the words from the Ministry’s famous poster. 

‘Oh god, I know,’ Harry said, hanging his head in mock shame. ‘George and Ron had it made for me a few Christmases ago as a joke present. I don’t even know why I still have it.’ 

‘Well _I_ love it, I’ll have my tea in it thanks.’ Draco laughed, handing it to Harry along with a rather more boring Chudley Cannons mug for his drink. 

The discovery of the mug broke the slight awkwardness and uncertainty that had built between them since leaving the cinema, and Draco began to feel more at ease—still jittery, and still desperately hoping to be able to touch Harry again soon, but that faded into a pleasant simmering need, noticeable enough but not so distracting that he couldn’t talk to Harry normally. They didn’t reference what had happened in the cinema as they chatted while Harry made the tea, but it was constantly present, an unspoken tension in the air, Harry’s gaze lingering on Draco for longer than usual, both of them aware of what was building but not yet mentioning it, content to let it take its time to come into bloom. 

Laden with cups of steaming tea and a hot chocolate for Teddy, as well as several large bags of Muggle sweets that Draco had never seen before, they made their way to the living room, ready for film night. Teddy was already settled on the sofa, but moved over to let Harry sit down, and Draco followed suit when Harry insisted there was enough space for him. There wasn’t, not really, but Draco sat anyway, his body immediately pressed against Harry’s, a shiver running through him at the contact.

Teddy had picked out a film for them to watch, another cartoon, one that he and Harry had apparently already watched multiple times, to judge by their comments as the film started. Draco tried to follow along with both the film and Teddy and Harry’s chatter, but it was incredibly hard to do so when Harry’s thigh was pressing against his own, the warmth of Harry’s body and the feel of his muscled leg unbearably distracting. Draco could smell that distinctly ‘Harry’ smell, and everytime Harry shifted positions all his nerve endings set alight once again at the sensation. It only got worse when Teddy and Harry began opening the packets of sweets, Draco’s thoughts taking a distinctly impure turn as he watched Harry swallow as he ate his way through a bag of Skittles. The cheeky smile on Harry’s face when he turned to look at Draco made him think Harry knew exactly what he was doing, and that thought only made Draco’s need increase. 

Draco’s only respite came when Harry went and put some pizzas in the oven for their dinner. But even that was short lived as when he came back with their food he also brought a blanket, pulling it across all of their legs. It was so intimate and domestic, sitting under a blanket pressed against Harry while they ate, and Draco found himself drifting into a fantasy world where this was his life, where he shared these kinds of evenings with Harry all the time. They watched two films this way; Harry a steady presence next to Draco, the tension building between them with every glance they exchanged. Draco knew something was going to happen—it surely had to, after all this—but he had no idea when. He found himself waiting either for the perfect moment, or for Harry to take the lead again. 

The moment finally came when Harry noticed that Teddy had fallen asleep right where he was sat, his empty plate still on his knee even as his head began to tilt forward. Quietly, Harry motioned to Draco to move, and they both got up, doing their best not to wake Teddy. Harry picked up Teddy’s plate before gesturing for Draco to follow him out of the living room. Excitement building in his stomach, Draco followed Harry into the kitchen, the only light the streetlight next to the window. Harry put down Teddy’s plate, the sound resonating in the otherwise silent room, and then turned to Draco. Draco’s heart was pounding in his chest as Harry moved closer, his intentions clear on his face. Harry came to a stop just in front of Draco, only centimetres separating them, so close that Draco could see every detail of Harry’s face in the glow of the streetlight. They stood like that, not yet touching, for a long moment. Draco soaked in every single detail, from the coolness of the tiles on his socked feet to the exact way that Harry’s hair was sticking up in the back, not wanting to forget a second of this. Just when Draco thought he couldn’t take it any longer, Harry reached out, gently cupping his face.

‘Is this okay?’ Harry whispered, his voice low and quiet. 

Draco could only nod as he took a small step forward, closing the remaining space between them, reaching out a trembling hand to rest on Harry’s hip. Their first kiss was gentle, soft, and even better than Draco could have dreamed. They exchanged small, tentative kisses for a moment, and then Harry’s tongue swept across Draco’s lip, and Draco sighed into the touch, his hand automatically gripping Harry’s hip tighter. That drew a moan from Harry, and then suddenly they were kissing properly, deeply, passionately. Draco slid his other arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him in, a rush of pleasure shooting through Draco at the feel of Harry’s broad chest against his. Harry’s hand slid up to tangle in Draco’s hair, and he slowly walked Draco backwards, pressing him against the counter, Harry’s hips coming into contact with Draco’s for the first time. Draco couldn’t help but press up into Harry, his hips bucking automatically at the delicious pressure, his blood on fire as they continued to kiss. Things would have progressed much further, as Draco desperately wanted, if it weren’t for the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Harry murmured as they pulled apart, resting his forehead on Draco’s for a moment as Draco tried to compose himself. ‘I’ll go sort Teddy out, get him into bed. Will you wait?’ Harry looked uncertain, for reasons Draco couldn’t understand.

‘Of course,’ Draco said, his voice rougher than normal, and Harry gave him one more quick kiss before dashing out of the room to intercept Teddy. Of course he would wait. He would wait as long as Harry needed.

While Harry went upstairs to put Teddy to bed, Draco wandered back into the living room. He’d had a quick glance around before they started to watch the film, but Harry’s closeness had soon distracted him from his surroundings, so it was with great interest that he looked around the room. It was somehow just very _Harry_ , a mixture of comfort and practicality with each piece of furniture or decoration somehow coming together to make the room seem like somewhere Harry completely belonged. The mantelpiece and several of the shelves of the bookcase in one of the alcoves contained many photos, some showing Harry and Teddy, others of Harry and his friends, a few in pride of place containing worn old photos of people Draco assumed must be Harry’s parents. He was in the middle of browsing Harry’s books—they ranged from Muggle classics, to Quidditch autobiographies, to magical theory books that surely were a gift from Hermione—when Harry reentered the room.

‘Having a good snoop?’ Harry said, making Draco jump. 

‘Very,’ Draco replied, deadpan. 

‘Found anything interesting?’ 

‘Not really, you’re very boring. I expected more from Dickhead no 1,’ Draco teased, his heart skipping when Harry came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, his chest warm and solid against Draco’s back. 

‘I’m sorry, I’ll try and be more interesting from now on.’ Harry laughed, the rumble in his chest vibrating through Draco, the intimate tone in his voice making Draco more than a little interested.

‘Good, I’ve always thought you could do with having a more interesting life.’

‘Me too, it’s always felt a bit boring.’ Harry chuckled, gently turning Draco around where they stood so that he faced Harry once again. Nerves fluttering, Draco leant down and kissed Harry again, relieved when Harry readily kissed him back. As the kiss began to turn heated though, Harry pulled back, one hand on Draco’s chest, moving up and down with his fast breathing.

‘This is good, so good,’ Harry started to say, a pit of dread forming in Draco’s stomach as he waited for the ‘but’. ‘I want to do this, want more, I promise, I just can’t, not with Teddy here, not while this is so new.’

Draco nodded, disappointment flooding him even as he realised the sense in what Harry was saying. If Teddy woke up in the morning to find Draco still here he would be confused, and it would then be terrible if this tentative new thing between them didn’t end up working out. Every fibre of Draco’s body ached to stay, to spend the night taking Harry apart and putting him back together again, but the sensible, rational part of his brain knew that Harry was right.

‘I know, it’s alright,’ Draco said, kissing Harry once again to show that he wasn’t annoyed. ‘I’ll see you next weekend for the next trip out? It’s a good one—I’ve been saving this place for weeks.’

‘I can’t wait,’ Harry said, walking Draco to the door, where he proceeded to push Draco up against the wall and thoroughly scramble his brains with a breathtaking kiss. When Draco finally left Harry’s house, he Apparated home with a huge grin on his face that remained firmly in place until he finally drifted off to sleep to thoughts of Harry.

* * *

The memory of the softness of Harry’s lips against his and the heat that had pulsed through his veins sustained Draco through a hellish week at work that prevented him from doing any more than exchanging the briefest of owls with Harry. He was at work before it got light in the morning, heading home just to fall straight into bed long after dark, scribbling quick notes to Harry in gaps between meetings. Draco loved his work, really, and normally lived for weeks like this, when his brain was constantly whirring and he really felt like he had the opportunity to achieve something big. But this week all he could think was that work was stopping him being able to see Harry again. By the time the weekend finally came, Draco was exhausted, and going out of his mind with the need to see Harry, to touch him, to kiss him again. Judging by the notes Harry had sent him, Harry was in a similar situation, never explicitly coming out and saying it but clearly looking forward to their weekend trip and the chance to see Draco again. 

Draco woke up early on Saturday morning, his stomach already tying itself in knots with wrestling nerves and excitement. He couldn’t wait to see Harry again, but was nervous to see whether things would be different between them, unsure of how they would behave around each other. That wasn’t the only reason for his nerves though. He’d had this trip in mind since he first started to plan his and Teddy’s adventures, but had been saving it until the end because of its importance and significance, both to the pure-blood communities but also to Draco himself. Draco had been taken there by his parents when he was young, maybe aged five or six, so long ago that his memories of the event were fuzzy and indistinct, but he would never forget the way the magic felt coursing through his veins, the moment when he really understood what he was and what it meant. He couldn’t wait for Teddy and Harry to experience it. 

Even though he spent longer than usual getting ready, his anxiousness at seeing Harry again manifesting in a need to ensure that he looked his best, Draco still managed to arrive at Andromeda’s while Teddy and Harry were finishing off their breakfast, Teddy excitedly waving a sausage round on the end of his fork as he babbled about the day’s trip. Fending off offers of toast and scrambled eggs, Draco sat down and waited for the others to finish eating. 

Teddy continued talking, with Draco nodding distractedly and making vaguely interested noises, his eyes locked on Harry the whole time. He hadn’t realised until he set eyes on him exactly how much he’d missed the sight of that stupid hair, and those broad shoulders, and that smile that made Draco’s stomach flip when it was directed at him. But now Harry was sat in front of him, smiling at him in that way that made Draco’s heart ache, crunching his toast and eating baked beans, his gaze never leaving Draco’s, and all Draco wanted to do was reach out and touch him, kiss him, press him up against the wall or the door or any flat surface he could find and pick up where they had left off the week before. 

As they prepared to Apparate to the day’s destination, Draco planning on Side-Alonging Teddy and Harry again, Harry took Draco’s hand smoothly, easily, as naturally as breathing. Draco melted at how easy it felt, how much it made sense to once again be in contact with Harry, like a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying was lifted off him. It took all his energy to drag his focus away from the warmth of Harry’s hand and back to the task he was supposed to be concentrating on. It wouldn’t do to misjudge this Apparition because he was too distracted by a man holding his hand. Andromeda wouldn’t accept that as a reasonable excuse if, Merlin forbid, something happened to Teddy. Centering himself, bringing all his awareness inward, Draco pictured where he wanted to go, the magic building in him before they span into nowhere, Harry’s hand still tightly grasped in his. 

They appeared on a hillside. In the distance the sea could just be seen, beyond the rolling patchwork hills. In the other direction a small hamlet was just visible, the smoke from chimneys floating up into the clear sky. Draco was pleased that the weather had held out—the views here were far better when the sky was cloudless, and he always felt like the magic was freer too, more playful, not held down by oppressive clouds or rain. He let Harry and Teddy take in the landscape for a moment, not saying anything, a small smile spreading across his face when Harry didn’t let go of his hand even though any practical reasons for needing to hold it were long over. 

‘It’s beautiful,’ Harry said finally, after long minutes had passed.

‘It is,’ Draco agreed. ‘It’s not why I brought you here though. Come on.’

Hands still interlinked, Draco began to walk down the hill, heading towards the valley, Teddy skipping along beside them, his eyes wide as he tried to look at everything at once. Draco hadn’t told Harry or Teddy why they were here, or what they would find, and as they walked, he kept looking over to them, waiting for the moment when they would feel it for the first time. 

Harry felt it first, and Draco caught the moment where his eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell open, Harry coming to a sudden halt before tripping forwards as he chased the feeling further into the valley. 

‘Oh,’ Harry said, turning round to face Draco and Teddy, a look of wonder on his face. ‘ _Oh_ ,’ he repeated, his hands visibly shaking as he slowly rotated on the spot, his face tilted to face the sky. 

Draco watched Harry as he soaked up the magic coursing through the earth and into the air, remembering the way it had felt when his parents had first brought him here as a child, and the way it had felt when he first came here as an adult. He’d already been displaying signs of accidental magic when they first brought him, but as he hadn’t yet learned to channel his magic or unlock the depths of it that lay buried inside him, the effect wasn’t as strong. It was still incredible, but it had taken longer to notice the magic floating around him and inside him, and he’d noticed an immediate difference when he’d visited again after the war. That time it was like he was drowning in magic, magic pouring into each pore as he absorbed the magic from the earth through his feet. 

‘Can you feel it, Teddy?’ he asked, knowing that Teddy wasn’t likely to be feeling it as easily as Harry was. 

Teddy shook his head. 

‘Close your eyes,’ Draco instructed, which Teddy immediately did. ‘Now try and focus on your feet, and on your skin. Do you feel anything? If you’re quiet, and patient, the magic will come and find you. It knows that you’re magic too.’

They waited quietly for a moment, Teddy with his eyes still tightly shut, Draco watching, waiting, the magic thrumming through his veins as he waited for Teddy to feel it too. And then Teddy gasped, his eyes flying open.

‘I can feel it!’ he exclaimed, laughing in shock as his eyes slid closed again. 

‘Isn’t it incredible?’ Draco asked, smiling at the delighted look on Teddy’s face as he luxuriated in the feeling of true, unadulterated magic. Even the less powerful version that Teddy was feeling was still something beyond compare, like nothing he would have ever felt before. 

‘It’s amazing,’ Harry said, making Draco jump. Harry had slipped to the back of his mind as he helped Teddy find the magic, and his reappearance at Draco’s side came as a surprise. ‘What is this place?’ Harry added.

‘It’s one of the few places left in the country where you can feel true magic. There used to be hundreds, all over the place, but as wizards were forced into hiding and Muggles began to build their cities, the magic retreated back to the safety of the ground. It still seeps out in some places, and even the Muggles can feel it sometimes, a vague feeling of ‘something is different here’ but this is one of the only places you can go and really _feel_ it anymore.’

‘Do all wizards know about this place?’ Harry asked, Teddy opening his eyes and looking interestedly at Draco. 

‘No,’ Draco replied. ‘When we were forced to retreat into the shadows, the pure-blood families kept the knowledge of this location a secret. In those days there were fears that the magic could be stolen from the ground, or that if all the magical places were built over we might lose our abilities all together. So they kept it quiet, never publicising it, quietly bringing their children when they got old enough and swearing them to secrecy too.’

‘And you were brought here as a kid?’

‘Yes. I remember it vividly—you don’t forget this feeling, after all.’ Harry nodded in agreement at that. ‘I remember my father telling me that he had brought me here to show me why we had to look out for ourselves, to protect ourselves and our heritage from Muggles and others who would want to destroy us. I hate that framing of it now—we can protect magic without hating Muggles—but at the time it was what all pure-blood children were told.’

‘And that’s why you brought us here?’

Draco nodded. ‘It was an important, significant moment in my childhood, and shaped my understanding of magic—made me love it, even. How could you not after feeling it in every part of your being? And I wanted Teddy to have that, that deep down love of magic and the sense of wonder that feeling it like this will give him.’

‘It is wonderful,’ Harry agreed. ‘Thank you for bringing us here. I never knew it could feel quite like this.’

‘You should try casting a spell,’ Draco suggested. ‘Then you’ll really feel it.’

‘Any spell in particular?’ Harry asked, pulling his wand out of his pocket. 

‘A Patronus!’ Teddy burst in. 

‘Alright.’ Harry laughed. ‘One Patronus coming right up.’

And he waved his wand, concentration spreading across his face as a huge stag erupted out of his wand. Teddy was shouting with excitement, running over to where the stag was galloping around, trying to get close enough to touch him. 

Harry turned to Draco, his eyes wide. ‘It feels… it’s so much _more_ ,’ he finished, seemingly at a loss for words.

‘It’s all the magic in the air,’ Draco explained. ‘It makes everything so much more powerful, every spell stronger, more impressive.’

‘It’s brilliant,’ Harry said, the sincerity clear in his voice.

‘Do yours, Draco!’ Teddy had come back up to them, and stood looking expectantly at Draco, while Harry’s stag continued to dance behind him.

Draco hesitated, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. He’d never been able to cast a Patronus. He’d tried, so many times, especially in that horrible year when Voldemort and his followers stalked the halls of the Manor, despair seeping into every pore of Draco’s being. He’d wanted nothing more than a beacon of hope, of comfort, of _goodness_ then, but he had never been able to make it happen. He didn’t want Harry to see him fail now.

‘Please, Draco?’ Teddy continued, oblivious to the tricky situation he was putting Draco in. 

Draco didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to get out of this without admitting that he wasn’t good enough to cast a Patronus, so he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and raised his wand, praying to any god he could think of that this time it would work. 

‘ _Expecto Patronum_ ,’ he said, making the wand movement that became so familiar over that year. With a jolt of surprise, he felt a wisp escape from his wand, an indistinct shape but clearly _something_ , more than he’d ever seen before when he tried to cast the spell. 

‘Try again,’ Harry said, and the encouragement and affection in his voice stopped the embarrassment that was starting to creep through Draco in its tracks. 

This time, Draco didn’t close his eyes. For a moment he just stood where he was, feeling the magic in the air prickling against his skin, letting it course through his veins and fill him up with a feeling of power and wonder, and then he looked at Harry. Mind full of the memory of Harry’s lips against his, his body thrumming with the power of centuries worth of magic, he cast once more. 

A glowing arctic fox burst out of the tip of his wand, immediately beginning to prowl, looping around them in a wide circle, eyes locked on the stag in apparent curiosity rather than fear. The three of them stood and watched, silent and awed, as the fox and the stag moved closer together, circling until they met, each sniffing the other warily. They seemed to decide that there was no threat, and then they were running, jumping, playing, together in the wide expanse of the valley, their silvery light bright against the dark green grass.

‘ _Awesome_ ,’ Teddy breathed, and Draco could only laugh.

It _was_ awesome, so much more than he ever dreamed it could be, the magic still resonating in his body as he reached out and clasped Harry’s hand, watching as the manifestations of their hopes, dreams, and happiness gambolled together in this sacred place. Harry’s eyes were bright when Draco looked at him, joy written on every line of his face, an undercurrent of want, of need, visible as his gaze flicked down to Draco’s lips, his hand gripping Draco’s tightly. 

They lingered in the valley for hours, Harry casting spell after spell, beaming at the way they were all so much stronger than usual, Teddy shouting requests for different spells he wanted to see. Draco mostly sat, cradled in the grass, watching, laughing, soaking up the magic that surrounded them, luxuriating in the sensation. He couldn’t stop watching Harry, the crackle of his magic, already so naturally strong, amplified by the waves of magic around them, washing over Draco’s skin and making him want, and ache, and burn. It was so much more than that though, more than just desire, more than just a physical need. Draco knew Harry was feeling it too, his looks increasingly heated, each glance sending a shooting star of pleasure up Draco’s spine with the promises they contained. Part of Draco wanted to grab Harry and Disapparate there and then, to take him home and let the tension building between them explode, and part of him was content to wait, each minute deliciously increasing the anticipation. 

Still, it was with relief that Draco Apparated them all back to Andromeda’s once Teddy and Harry had had their fill of the valley. Harry hurriedly brushed off all of Andromeda’s exhortations to stay for dinner, flashing a secret smile at Draco as he said he had somewhere to be. They didn’t even discuss it, they both knew what they wanted to happen. Harry took Draco’s hand and Apparated, Andromeda’s cottage vanishing, replaced by Harry’s street. 

Anticipation building pleasantly in his stomach, a swirl of excitement, nerves, and desire, Draco followed Harry into the house, both of them coming to a stop in the hallway. Harry turned to face Draco, and the look on his face, uncertainty mixed with undeniable need, robbed Draco of any ability to take this slow. He backed Harry up against the wall, delighting at the way Harry hurried to go along with it, and then he kissed him, deep and passionate, letting out all the longing that had been building in him all day, all week. Harry melted into the kiss, opening his mouth with a groan, and Draco was gone, all restraint vanishing as he pressed his body against Harry’s pushing his hips forwards so Harry could feel how badly he wanted this. 

They made their way slowly up the stairs, pausing to strip off clothes and explore newly revealed skin, the magic still lingering in Draco’s veins making everything feel heightened, more intense. Harry’s room was dark when they finally made it there, but without breaking their kiss, Harry waved a hand, the bedside lights flaring into life and suffusing the room with a soft glow. 

Draco sighed when they fell on Harry’s soft bed, their bodies aligning, pressing against each other in the most delicious way, sinking in to each other with every kiss, every touch. When Harry pressed inside Draco, the burst of pleasure that spread through him was nearly overwhelming, and it only increased with every movement Harry made. Draco’s magic, still so near the surface after their trip to the valley, seemed to reach out, sensing Harry’s, and as the two intertwined it sent shockwaves of bliss through Draco, Harry moaning into his mouth as he felt it too. Their magic cocooned them, wrapping them in layer upon layer of sensation and pleasure as they moved together, Harry’s eyes never leaving Draco’s. Draco didn’t know whether it was Harry, the magic in the air, or the slow build up as they’d taken their time to get to this point, but he’d never felt anything so incredible, his climax overtaking him in a rush of white hot pleasure and crackling magic. 

They stayed in Harry’s bed for hours afterwards, the burning need exhausted but a smouldering desire still present as Draco leisurely explored Harry’s body, discovering the places that made Harry sigh in pleasure, Harry tracing the faint scars that still littered Draco’s chest, Draco brushing away his attempted apologies. It was in the past now, and Draco didn’t want to focus on that. He wanted to look forward. That was what the lessons had all been about, after all. Looking forward, helping Teddy, ensuring that the world would be better in the future. When they’d finally had their fill of each other, Harry sighed and got out of bed, Draco immediately mourning the loss of Harry’s skin against his own.

‘Come with me,’ Harry said, holding out a hand to Draco, who immediately took it, regretfully leaving the warmth of Harry’s bed.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Downstairs—if you’re going to stay here more often you need to learn how to use the kettle,’ Harry said, a rush of happiness flooding through Draco at the tacit admission that Harry wanted to keep doing this. 

‘Only if I get to use that mug again,’ Draco laughed as he happily followed Harry down the stairs.

‘If you must,’ Harry groaned. ‘I’ve got an idea for our next trip out, too,’ he added.

‘I’d intended for yesterday to be our last lesson,’ Draco said, Harry’s face immediately falling.

‘Oh.’

‘But we could just go on a trip anyway? No lesson, just… us, taking Teddy out?’ Draco offered, hoping Harry wouldn’t mind being referred to as an ‘ _us_ ’.

‘I’d love that,’ Harry beamed.

As Harry began to explain how exactly the kettle worked, Draco found his attention drifting, distracted by Harry’s bare chest and the way his hands moved as he talked. He might have hated the idea of being in charge of Teddy’s _Lectiones_ when his mother first suggested it, but now Draco couldn’t be happier that he’d agreed to do it. He’d hopefully prevented another child going down the route he took, showing Teddy the best of both worlds and protecting him from all the prejudice and hate that had warped Draco’s childhood. And on top of that he’d somehow ended up finding something he’d never anticipated having, with Harry of all people. It was better than Draco could ever have dreamed, and he couldn’t stop the hope that swelled in his chest or the smile that spread across his face as he pictured a future full of adventures with Harry and Teddy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of HD Erised, an on-going anonymous fest. The author will be revealed January 10th.


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